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- Praetor?s Lunch - 2/4 -


SEVENTH MORSEL

Prosperity has many friends and many envious schemers who duck at blind corners . Comrades and kin trumpet deeds . Generosity towards common masses too gains favour .We?ll know it when the market place speak of none but the doer . To detractors, motives are questioned unflaggingly . Any hint of misdemeanour or misstep , the forum echoes with it with the zeal equalled only by the homecoming of a victor crowned with honours except it?s ill distinction and not exalted honour. Whisperings at public baths , hastened steps towards or away from the object of their speculation . Some will speak well of them. Some will be too distant to know them well enough to dislike or to be fond of with conviction sprung from familiarity. Prosperity puts a person on different plain yet this dagger is just as sharp on both sides for the one is also vulnerable to the critical eye of scrutiny. Doubts, beliefs , suspicions and truths addled with syllables which make a name. Common populace , will they choose to know the truth and live with the measure of a human being or swallow myth and live with the flight of legend ? That shall be determined by conduct , attainments , favourable circumstances and an orator?s persuasive logic.

EIGHTH MORSEL

Fear their leaders more than their faceless enemies . Guard the standard as if it were one?s life .A source of pride to be defended. In all manner of weather or even in peace the play of battle fills the gap of idleness. Hardened muscles are not to grow soft and feeble.

Barbaric tribes of east and west. Threats to outer reaches of reign. There our garrisons cannot rest their tools . Craggy mountains and treacherous forests are home to nomadic tribes which live to hunt and plunder , wild like their wilderness dwellings. They have neither patience nor skill to cultivate the land. They are not of that ilk.

Cities and orderliness are strange to them. They are curiosities amongst us .We are game in their company. They see our numbers and strength .They do not venture forth . An uneasy peace simply broken by the party which is the first to charge , cry out and first to snatch their arms out of their housing .

NINTH MORSEL

?Quot homines tot sententiae.? So many people so many opinions. The voice of the leader slices across the indiscernible chatter. All persuading , nobly commanding . A clear voice brings with it a defined course. The rest obey , they lack the chief?s possessions. ?Qualis Rex talis grex?. Such is the leader , such is the people. One?s virtues are taken note of .The most ardent admirers mold themselves to that manner. What their leaders do and and do not. Whatever those venerated say or withhold. There are imitators , emulators , travesty smiths. Once in a while , one or a small band of them rise to remold status quo. A wave is hatched and unleashed .It becomes an acceptable convention. It is the manner of people that which is proven will be used till the spring is parched or when something superior is offered and that offering tickles their longing. Far easier to remain constant than alter a course. Given the disposition toward ease , the well trodden tempts .Yet heed well that it is the passage of tribulation where the coronet of glory and honour rests on the head of those who are uncowed .They shall find that fame latches like their own skin to their name .

TENTH MORSEL

We who hold the torch We must be patient Decorum requires it The pride of a legion lives within its standard one standard bearer bears sacrament of cohorts

We who hold the torch We must be patient Decorum requires it One official?s carriage personifies the rest one written inscription ultimate seal of fate

We who hold the torch We must be patient Decorum requires it Make way for those better while we wait with patience allow them the better seats their merit exceed ours

ELEVENTH MORSEL

I am not one to dispute the will of God , divine will becomes our lot , but I question the logic of some . Foolish is the soul who enters the place , who announces his innermost desires , swears a gift in return , should they be fulfilled , by divine consent , upon his earthly cares , mortal souls have none to offer better , than the rewards of paradise , what are our trappings to heaven , when it is God who grants ? It is not worship or invocation , it is a wager posed by hubris , displace pomposity and affectation , come in a penitent pose , humility warrants attention , or else snuff the lamp , take the oil elsewhere .

I am not one to dispute the will of God , divine will becomes our lot , but I question the right of tyrants . Charred cities after their sacking , the cries of dependent humanity , sent to feed searing flames , the weak , meek and lame , no daylight dawns again , a winding trail of chains and clubs , the gathered wounded ; conquered , these tyrants do not govern , they seize and consume their fill , then hunger rumbles again , they repeat their atrocities , till the Fates pluck them . For each tyrant reaped , by droves victims precede them , their number exceed sacrificial offerings , made to appease wrathful spirits , or custom of ceremony , of a deity worshipped .

TWELFTH MORSEL

Our moments of glory


Praetor?s Lunch - 2/4

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